Archive for June 2012

Les Journaux Dans Le Café Part I

Wednesday, June 20, 2012 Comments Off

A. Keali
Have you ever had a broken heart? The one that came all of the sudden, crushing a non-existent void in your chest, making it bigger and bigger, until it developed completely all over your body, like you were suddenly hit by perpetual cold wind that touched every single expanse of skin all over your body? Like somebody suddenly threw you over and over again until you could not feel anything but nausea and something that degrading away inside you, fading until you could not feel anything but the cold and ache.
I have.
The feeling varies from time to time. The coldness and the emptiness and the aching madness inside. Sometimes I feel like I'm about to throw up, sometimes I can hold everything inside, but there are times, when I feel like the world is about to end, like right now. Despite the warmth that the coffee shop provides and even with the never ending coffee and tea I order, I cannot make these feelings go away. I feel so incomplete and lost, but above all, unloved. There's an uneasy feeling that's nagging on my brain, like a simple migraine, but I'm afraid I don't have any medicine to cure this. I want to drown and to scream at the same time.
I confess, I want to feel. Not this emptiness, not this coldness, this is not feeling. This is a state of soul. Of something so delicate and fragile that once tainted by this overbearing nothingness could spread through my whole existence. My past, my present and my future. A tainted present that over think about the mistakes in the past that leads to this... unchangeable soul. All fractured. Again, I want to feel. I want to feel again the joy of discovering something new, the thrill of knowing someone that looks like you and the happiness and contentment when you enjoy being completely being with them. I need that. I need everything. I need someone to remind me that I do exist, albeit temporary, in this world. That my name does mean something to someone, to anyone. That even though at times I could be a complete mess, there is someone that still loves me no matter what I do. I need to be loved. I need to feel that passion that takes you away, that overwhelms you, energies so big, they make you want succumb and give yourself fully to them. I want something that last. Something that could overcome any troubles. I want to be that girl. The girl that someone adores and loves irrevocably and completely. I want to be the girl with the power, the power that could turn a man's life upside down, a power that could affect someone's life. A power that could change the course of someone's life, that could touch someone's life.

I'm writing this at work. Not much of a busy day for me, only few constant customers stay in here, the other customers came and went to continue their lives which were previously nonexistent to me. And as a barista-slash-cashier-slash-waitress, I get to play my own little game I invented awhile ago when I could not interact with the other employees, it's simple really, when costumers come and order, I would judge which mood they are currently in or what kind of job they have by their looks, tips and orders. For example, earlier today, one of our regular costumers ordered his green tea with a smile, great tips and great patience, so I assumed that he just got his salary today and he was waiting for his future-fiancée to arrive and propose her then and there. There was also a rather rude man, he was wearing an impeccably tailored suits and expensive suitcase, he frowned as he ordered his espresso and I immediately thought that this man was going to make a good mafia, or, if he fancied, a dictator. There was also a nonstop talking woman earlier today, she was wearing a matching pink outfit, from top to bottom, and was carrying a rather misplaced looking puppy; from her looks and the way she ordered her "Ice tea with no sugar, unless they are not very sweet or approved by my organization, The blahblahblah (I have no idea what kind of organization she had). And less ice please, I do not want them to change the taste and the colour of the tea. Do you have anything else besides black tea? White tea perhaps?" and so on, I knew she was one of those girls you avoid during high school because she had a nasty mouth that won't stop talking. I think I need a new job. Or a new identity perhaps? I need to have someone that could make me happy. And I need to refill the green tea guy's drink.

B. Marnell
A waitress promptly refills my green tea as I look away to the street outside. I know her, even though only a passing. Her name is Keali and I can see a perpetual mourning across her face, her eyes tell me so. I think she shares the same ache with me, even though I do not have the aura that gives off chill and disinterest in the human world as she gives me. As I turn my head and smiles briefly at her, she smiles back; the exchange is like sharing a knowing thought to each other, a thought that we share the same grief, that we have our own secret world underneath all the façade, underneath layers of faux happiness.
As a writer and as a constant observer, I could see through people's façade. Mind you, I'm unlike that glittery vampire which teens adore nowadays, but, I could see which is which and which is not. I could see that Keali has a sense of otherwordliness that I adore so much. She seems to be disconnected from this world, even though she blends really well. I think I've met her before, but I could not place where.
As a man, I'm entranced by her eyes and the way she carries herself. It is as if she is dying for someone to touch her, yet she is too afraid. She is too afraid by the idea of people knowing her insides. Her nightmares and her dreams. Her happiness and her nothingness. But, is she really happy? By her current state and her eyes, I do not think she is. I think she is waiting, waiting in a metaphorical station for a train to go and take her away. I don't think she doesn't care where she'd end up, but I think, I think she does care about the journey and about the idea that she is away from all these nonsense. Do I judge too much?

Whys

Sunday, June 17, 2012 Comments Off

It was around noon when he found her lounging in his bedroom wearing his old university sweater and a pair of leggings. Her hair was up on a bun, a pair of nerd glasses (but nowadays he teased her as a hipster glasses) perched on the bridge of her nose and she was reading one of his novels collection. Her body laid randomly on his bed, leaving almost no space for him to lay down.
"Yo, hipster, shove." he said.
She looked up at him and giggled. "Yo, white collar, take off that stupid suits."
He grinned and took off his suits, his tie and unbuttoned both his collar and his cuffs. "How was your day, m'lady?"
"Oh, same old, same old." she said while he laid down next to her. "But, I sold more than twenty pieces from my summer collection, there's some discount on some of the last seasons' pieces, so those pieces were actually sold out today."
"All of them? Really?"
"Yep. Aren't you proud?" she said, her eyes sparkling.
"Very." he said, kissing the top of her head gently. "Now, I don't believe we've done our routine today."
She blushed and got off the bed. "Well, seeing that in less than a week--"
"No! It will be our routine, it's something I look forward to everyday. Now, I do believe you owe me a routine." he followed her until she stopped in front of his dresser.
"Oh, do we have to? I smell bad today and I just made dinner with your Mum, so I must be smelling like a trash can." she muttered, and he shocked her by laughing. His cheeks turned pink. She blushed.
"You could never smell bad to me. You will always-- wait, no, you can't fish compliment to make me change my mind." he said after his hysterical laughter. "Now, our routine."
"No." she said stubbornly, her brunette hair bouncing of slightly when she put her hands on her hips.
"Yes. Now." he said.
She shook her head and didn't budge when he came closer to her. He smiled and advanced even more. "Give up, or by God, I will start it."
"Fine. But make it quick." she said, finally surrendered. He grinned evilly and gestured her to closed the gap. She grunted and pouted, but followed his order and closed the remaining space between them. Now, she was finally face to face with him, but her height only reached his chest, right under his chin and her forehead would touch his neck if she creep closer.
"You know, if you do that cute pout thing, I will enjoy this even more." he said, his fingertips dancing across her pink lips.
Then she laughed. A soft sound that was music to his ear and a lovely tune that soothed his heart every time he heard it. She closed her eyes from time to time, causing her thick and curly lashes touched her cheeks. "Fine," she said and then tiptoed to nuzzle his nose with hers, a stark contrast, for his was large and hers was small.
And then he put his thumb to that special place in her delicate face, it was the space just below her pink pouty lips, an expanse of smooth skin that curved inward to perfectly accommodate his slightly calloused thumb. His thumb often hovered slightly over her lips, in which caused her to be pouty and pulled off from his grasp. Then he smiled, a ghostly smile that untrained eyes could not see, a smile that only her knew. A smile that reserved just for her. And then he kissed her soundly but thoroughly, he gently put his hand on her hair before he pulled back.
He received a shy smile and another nuzzle on his nose. "Hi." she said.
"Hello." he said back, his hands had moved from her hair to her face, cupping them gently.
"I'm famished. Ready to eat, love?" she asked, her hand pulled one of his that was on her face and slipped her to his.
"Yes, me too. You know, if you think about it, who would've thought that our small routine would end with us kissing each other." he said, walking with her out of the room.
"Oh, shut up. You know I've always been in love with you since I was a girl! I used to be innocent, but you took that away from me with that routine of yours!" she said dramatically, with a deep breath that wasn't necessary.
He laughed heartily. "Routine of ours. It was innocent, you know! Well, before we got together, it was innocent. To be honest, you were closer to me than that twin brother of yours, that's why we had a routine, it was sort of an act of reassuring myself that you are alright and... well, you know, my obsession with E.T. and to reassure myself that you weren't replaced by an alien." he said sheepishly and started laughing.
She laughed with him and at him. "Really? What made you think that?"
"Well... I didn't know anything about your, um, period back then, so when you suddenly got... cranky, I thought you were replaced by some sort of alien..."
"Awww" she said, tiptoeing to kiss his nose. "This is why I love you, this is why I agree to marry you. You make me happy. I love you."
He smiled and kissed her lips swiftly. He didn't have to answer back, she already knew.

"Sounds like you need a hug"

Thursday, June 14, 2012 Comments Off

I've decided that I'm going to leave Indonesia in less than a month. I'll be away from here for approximately two months, the first six weeks I will spend my days with strangers in a country where I've never been to in my whole life, talk in my second language and improve my skills on the said language. When I was arranging all of the things I needed that enabled me to go there, I pondered a simple question: will I survive?

I understand that, even though I did not really have a great childhood, nor a good one to be remembered of, but I was brought up in a wealthy-enough environment, where I could at least brought a case full of every possible art supply that people could think of (even though at that time I never really needed them all because I often drew with colored pencils, but to come and think about it, if I had those now, I'll be happier than a rich kid with iPad, iPhone and the newest MacBook Pro). And then, when I get there, I'm going to manage everything on my own, sure I've been living almost alone for the past eight months, but I was in a familiar environment where everybody was there for me. It is not as if I am scared of the prospect of living alone in the middle of a strange country, but the idea of being completely alone (with the exceptions of three friends who are currently living in the same country and each of them lives in different cities and none of them live in the city where I'm going to live) is just too overwhelming. Admittedly, I always thought that nobody had ever been there for me, now however, I must admit that, even though nobody has ever continuously been there for me, there are people who continuously filled my days with their time, filling the gaps with their bits, sharing their irreversible precious time with me. I guess, in a way, all of those self-destructing thoughts came from my own head. And I am grateful that I came across a revelation, I want to thank everyone, the ones who left and the ones who stayed, you taught me what kind of companions you are; especially for those who left or the ones I could not reconnect with, maybe my time in your life is done and so is your time in my life, we may not be the greatest friends anymore, but I am grateful for your time in my life, thank you for being there for me however short that may be, thank you.


This led me to realize something even more. I read an article from Thought Catalog called Traveling Alone, at first I read it because I thought it would show me an experience by someone, instead, it was a beautifully written article about why we should not travel alone. I do not know if it is the writer's implicit intention or it is my way of decipher things, but from what I've gathered, this article showed us about our journey throughout our lives. When we were born, just like the lonely traveler in the article, we were alone, we came in with our own luggages, our own personalities and future burdens and accomplishments caused by those personalities, and then everyone there helped us, they may not always be there, but they helped, like the immigration officer with round stomach and thick mustache and the janitor that gave back your fallen handkerchief. They all taught us how to survive, some lived just like the janitors, in the background but always been there, and some lived like those rich business men who kept talking on their expensive-looking phones, stood out and wore the best of clothes. We were all very busy waiting for our flights, waiting to discover ourselves, waiting for the journey that could define us, some take it to Paris to see the wonders, some take it to Italy to learn how to cook by heart, some travel to exotic places to see what most never seen before and some, like me, are just trying to figure out what kind of journey they want. I could conclude that, I could not wait for my journey.

The Last One

Wednesday, June 13, 2012 Comments Off

The last one, she said to herself as she contemplated. Her eyes looked sorrowful as she breathed in smoke and saw the other end of the cigarette burned into ashes. She tapped it on the floor, watching the ashes fell down uselessly like tears in her face. She bit her thumb, the smell of menthol sinking in her stomach knocking her on the head, reminding her that she had not eat since that sandwich she had three days ago on her way to the office. But she didn't budge, she stayed there, in front of the white bathroom that now had ashes of countless cigarettes and her invisible tears. What is life? she asked to herself.
"What is life when there is nothing to love?" a stream of tears rolled down her cheek.


She first met him at The Station. It was a large cubic room in the center of The Centre. It held many cubicles for The Officers and The Travelers. The Officers' cubicles were held statically by thin diamond-like thread in the air, while The Travelers' cubicles, because the small numbers and their need for easy access to The Room underground, were on the ground, each separated by thick black glasses. The Travelers' with their white uniformed tracksuits, white backpacks and army haircut looked like misplaced doctors, in her opinion. At least that was what she thought until she met him. He was tall with perfect set of white teeth, but his hair was long raven black and he wore it down, he had the sourest expression; he was the perfect soldier. Detached from reality, a bit of a loner but he mastered every martial arts human kinds had ever known. Perfect specimen. But she could tell the instant she met his eyes. They were like Black Holes she used to gazed at night with her special telescope given by her father on her 12th birthday, they were void of anything, you stared at him and you could come into a conclusion that his soul, too, was null. He was a mystery that she would love to solve.

As it turned out, she was The Officer to his Traveler. That same week, she arranged his travels and his specific tasks on each travels:
Paris, September 1889 -- Guard Thomas Edison in Eiffel Tower.
New Mexico, July 1947 -- Fly The Ships, claim them as UFOs.
Egypt, 69 BCE -- record the birth of Cleopatra VII
She sighed. Had he always travelled this much? It was not like the usual transport, travels usually required  many energies because jumping from one time and space to another was sometimes too much to take. She never was a Traveler, but from what she heard, most of The Travelers needed at least a week to recover from traveling and now he had to do three travels before he could come home? He was mad.

The first day of the following week, she gave him the details of his travels in the morning and then he suddenly popped out in her booth, saying that he needed more tasks.
"Are you mad?" she asked. "If you travel through time and space that much, you'll kill yourself, your cells won't regenerate themselves and then eventually you'll die. What's the point of taking medications in the morning if you are just going to die soon?"
He opened his mouth and closed it. His eyes were burning with rage, it was the first time she saw him like that, with emotions. "If that's the case then I want ten more tasks. I can't bear being in here."
"No. You've reached your limit. Get off my booth and go train yourself."
He did.

It wasn't until the next summer holiday that she saw him. He looked the same to unknowing people, but to her, there were more burdens in his eyes and his posture was different. She approached him and nudged his shoulder.
"See, if you took ten more, you'll be looking like a walking zombie." she said, her eyes searching his. He sneered.
"Well, if you are giving me cold shoulders then I won't give you any travels." she singsonged, her eyes sparkled and glowed in dimly lit room.
"Fine. Hello. How are you?" he said unenthusiastically.
"I'm good. How was Cleopatra? Was she pretty?" she asked.
He only nodded and she sighed.
"You'll receive the details tonight. Don't forget to go to The Infirmary, your ribs are fractured, your left eye need to be tended and there are scraps on your knees." she said as she walked away. He gaped at her and quickly went to The Infirmary.

"How do you know?" he asked as he suddenly sat down in front of her while she was having lunch.
"How do I know what?" she asked back, twirling her spaghetti on her plate.
"How do you know that I was injured?" he asked, bewildered by her simple action of twirling spaghetti.
"I was trained to be a doctor, but, it wasn't exactly my dream, so I quitted and applied a job in here, I thought they were going to put me in The Infirmary but they were lack of--" he cut her short.
"Yeah, I heard enough." he got up and when he was about to leave, he added, "Thanks."
She smiled in return.

"How was the vikings? Did they take you down? I can see your limp foot." she said, without looking up as she was busy with her touch screen tablet, crisscrossing and writing necessary details on his next adventures.
He did not answer for the next few minutes. "I'm going to take you as my companion."
Again, she did not bother looking up, her fingers kept dancing above the see through tablet. "I don't have the requirements. Besides, I like working behind desk."
"I'm going to teach you everything I know. Androids are fast learners. But promise me, after that, you'll become my companion and then, eventually, one of The Travelers." he said.
Her fingers stilled in the air and she looked up at him. His eyes were void of anything but she could see that he was serious. "Well, okay, I guess."

It took her five years and constant yelling from him to finally master all of the things he taught and it took her another four years to finally become one of The Travelers. During her time being a companion, however, she fell in love with him. Hard. Fast. And real. There were many memories she shared with him and all of them made her feelings grow for him. There was one memory where she was walking out of her bedroom, finally finished dressing herself up for The Royal Wedding and she met a figure in tailored suits, his hair was pulled back by a leather string, accentuating his high cheekbones and nose. He looked like a dark prince. But it was not the moment where she realized her feelings for him, nor when they had to dance under the moonlight by the request of the head of the Mayan tribe. No, it was when they were in present time and were walking together, reminiscing some memories of their adventures in building The Great Wall of China. It was a rather sunny day, but then, as they walked to the garden of roses, rain suddenly fell from the sky, the rain made them run to find the nearest shelter, but there was none. However, he spotted a large tree and pulled her to him. When they were safe under the tree, she laughed, he did not, but he smiled, albeit a small one, at her, it was then he noticed that she was shivering, he immediately took of their jackets and pulled her into his arms. He did not say anything, he did not need to.

However, she knew fairytales weren't made for her. She knew it the instant she showed him her discovery, an entrance to an alternate universe, the only alternate universe. She could see his eyes sparkled and twinkled with happiness, even though his face did not show any emotions. At first she thought it was his need, his thirst to travel to where no man had travelled before, but as time gradually moved on, he started telling her that he was not from this world. That he needed to come back home, to that alternate universe. To meet his love that he lost when someone accidentally threw him to this universe. He needed to come home. That night, she cried for him, for his lost love and ultimately, for her lost love. She also had a secret, she was the last one of the human race, she needed to continue her race but with him gone, how could she? The Earth was now ruled by androids and Halfs, half human half android. Her love for him was bigger than her love for this Earth. She could not bear if he had to spend his life knowing that he could come back but he had family that he needed to take care of. She needed him to be happy, because at least, that what differed her from the androids, she had feelings.

And, with great amount of emptiness that was dreading to fill her heart, she watched him leave.
And then she smoked. smoked. smoked. Watching her life slowly crumbled into ashes like the cigarettes ends in the matter of days until they blended into none.
Powered by Blogger.
CURRENTLY
©